


The Woes of Wounding

by LittleLuciernagaSide (littleLuciernaga)



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Fantasy AU, M/M, Medieval AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22176964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleLuciernaga/pseuds/LittleLuciernagaSide
Summary: Tsumugi may or may not have a talent to share with the world, but is he willing to use it despite his guilt?(Events take place after my previous fic ‘Days And Nights Of Pleiades’, so there are endgame spoilers and context from there.)
Relationships: Aoba Tsumugi/Sakasaki Natsume
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34





	The Woes of Wounding

Though Tsumugi lives in what should be his “happily ever after”, time has instantly shown him that life doesn’t disappear after the greatest threats are overcome; Leo Tsukinaga’s visit and judgement has long since passed, as well as his former Lord’s death and the hardest parts of his mourning process. Natsume’s heart is his, and his is Natsume’s-- but despite how the librarian’s little world has come to a point of calm like he’s never known before, the reality outside of the Old Lands still had calamities and injustice to worry about.

Such thoughts come upon Tsumugi as he stares down at the wheezing fisherman occupying the guest room’s bed in the basement. Sora sits at the bedside with a wet cloth, fussing over the man’s sweat-drenched forehead and the worrying, increasingly redding and swelling of his skin. 

As Tsumugi starts staring for too long, pale fingers snap suddenly and right in front of his face, startling him back into consciousness.

“Wha-??” 

“Wake up, _you._ ” Natsume tells him, frowning. “Did you find the book I asked you for?”

“Oh!” Tsumugi nods quickly and hands over the tome he was holding on to. “Yeah, sorry--I hadn’t had the chance to look at that young one, he’s in really bad shape…”

“Then you can see for yourself why we don’t have the luxury of dozing off right now.” Natsume chides, already flipping through the pages of the book; it was a recollection of curses and practical black magic. He stops quickly enough, his frown deeper when he seems to find and skim at what he was looking for. “ _..Damn it_.” He hisses out in a quiet voice, making Tsumugi tilt his head at him.

“What’s wrong, do you need another book?”

“No, this is the one. It just confirmed my suspicions about this man’s _problem._ ” 

“I’m... assuming that’s not a good thing?”

Natsume closes the book with a concerned sigh.

“No… he was very badly _hexed._ ” He explains, weary. “I can take care of absorbing the curse so it stops hurting him in the long run, but the physical damage that’s already made and his fading vitality are another story.”

“So a regular healing process won’t help...”

“It’s just not quick enough for the state he’s in.” Natsume hurries over the book shelf himself. “Maybe there’s some sort of potion I could brew to regress the _damage_ \--”

“Master,” Sora calls out, interrupting Natsume’s search with urgent eyes. “The curse worsens, please come help!”

“ _Damn it._ ” Natsume repeats under his breath. He quickly addresses Tsumugi.

“I need you to focus and look for some way to help--a potion, a natural remedy, _anything_ will do.”

Nobody else is there to take the request, but Tsumugi’s eyes dart around in a huff, as if trying to pin this on someone else. He feels his shoulders tense up when he realizes he hasn’t even responded yet. Embarrassed, he talks under his breath.

“I honestly don’t know if I’m the one you should ask--”

“You’re the only one available, so you’ll _have_ to make it work.” Natsume easily interrupts him. It should sound like he’s compensating or like this is such an unwanted and last-minute result, but the way he squeezes Tsumugi’s arm before leaving tells of a different intention; one of trust. No excuse or explanation in the world can be enough to make Tsumugi not at least _try_ to be of help.

...Though, at the very least, he’s still full of doubt as he wills himself to do it. Something about _him_ being the one in charge of a living person’s delicate state feels beyond wrong. Something that, no matter how vague he wants to try to be about, remains clear not only in his thoughts but his cheek; his days of murder and poison. 

\--

It’s hard for Tsumugi not to touch his cheek’s scar, shudder or feel immensely guilty as he skims through the pile of books he’s gotten into the kitchen, his focus half in the texts and half in his head, trying to make sense of his bad feelings--like he’s the one who hexed the poor fisherman in the first place. Despite knowing it isn’t the case, heaviness remains in his chest up until the point he reaches an incantation that seems perfect for the situation even on a general and loose assessment.

He quickly but nervously makes way back to the basement with the book at hand. By the time it’s taken him to investigate and make it to Sora and Natsume, he notices that though the fisherman continues to breath heavily and has much scarring and damage to deal with, the color of his skin has stopped darkening and swelling up. Sora stares hopefully at the bookmarked tome as soon as he notices Tsumugi walking into the room.

“Sir, did you find something?”

“I think so.” Tsumugi hands over his finding to the boy. “Right on the bottom of the page…”

Surprisingly enough, Natsume is the one to react first to the cover of the book while Sora examines the text.

“Healing _spells_.”

Tsumugi nods along. 

“Yeah, one of our oldest in the collection. Do you think that’ll do?”

To the librarian’s horror, Natsume’s expression turns uncertain. 

“I mean...It would if we had the _means_ to make it work.”

“Wait...” Tsumugi blinks at him, and notices Sora’s expression turning more troubled with every new word he reads. “What do you mean?”

“Healing magic is very... _specific_.” Natsume starts. “It’s on the other end of curses, and just as not any magician can curse, not any magician can heal. It’s rare to be good enough at it to do an incantation without any _proper_ studying.”

“Master is good with curses, so he can’t heal?” Sora asks, worried. Natsume’s expression and words in reply are almost sheepish, as if he were embarrassed to not have every good answer Sora deserved.

“ _P_ _retty much._ I was so deeply intertwined with Rei-niisan and the dark arts both in this life and the one before that curses and black magic are sort of a second nature to me. _Healing_ , on the other hand…”

Both Sora and Tsumugi nod along. Natsume’s otherworldly nature and the fact that he’s some sort of deity are always hard to remember with how casually he lives his life, but things like this, though normal for the boy and the librarian to hear, never really fail to catch them off-guard. After a bit of really taking in what Natsume tells them, Tsumugi turns to Sora, a little hopeful.

“You look like you’d be really good at healing magic, Sora-kun.” He tells him. “Do you think you could try to recite this?”

And once more, to his horror, Sora doesn’t look up to the task at all.

“Sora’s tried before, but he’s also not great with healing…” The boy begins, his voice small. “It’s really precise and the magician’s got to be detached from the victim so they can focus on the spell, but Sora can’t ignore all the ugly colors or how worse they’d get if he messed up. Sora can’t bring himself not to think of it all, so he can only do really basic injuries…”

Right as he talks, Tsumugi notices the boy’s look has rarely left the surroundings of the poor fisherman and how taxed he already seems just from that. It’s all the proof he needs to believe him, but despite understanding where he comes from, he can’t find a way to hide his disappointment. He sighs and slowly turns to exit the basement and continue his search.

“Well...I guess I’ll have to look for another way to help, then.”

He doesn’t get to leave just yet, though, as Natsume suddenly grabs his arm.

“And _where_ do you think you’re going?”

“Um--” Tsumugi looks wide-eyed over his shoulder, confusion written all over his face. “Upstairs? To look for another remedy?”

Natsume squints.

“You haven’t gone through _everybody_ who could cast this spell yet.”

“Who could I have possibly missed?”

A beat. Natsume and Sora stare directly at Tsumugi, so flat-faced and so pointedly even the dense librarian can understand what they mean a little quicker than usual. He almost jumps with the realization, nervous to have any sort of expectations thrust upon himself.

“Hold on,” He starts. “You just explained how hard it is, there’s no way I’d be any good at this without practice!”

Sora’s hopeful look turns into something a little more insistent.

“Are you certain, Sir?” 

“Of course not, but I just--”

And then Natsume chimes in, his grip on Tsumugi’s arm still strong.

“The spell caught your attention. It must’ve happened for a _reason._ ”

“That doesn’t make any sense, I just thought--”

“Please Sir, you should just try! The quicker the better!”

“But I--”

“There’s a life at _stake_ here.”

Tsumugi starts feeling lightheaded with the increasing insistence coming from the two of them-- Why are they being like this?

“P-Precisely, that’s why--”

“Sir!”

Why can’t they understand?

“I don’t--”

“ _Tsumugi_.”

“Please, I just-!!”

“Sir!”

And suddenly, just as quickly as Sora and Natsume pressure him, Tsumugi’s helplessness becomes annoyance, and the annoyance becomes anger.

“ _\--That’s_ **_enough!_** ”

The short but cutting words and the stomp that comes out of Tsumugi are so sudden and so loud even he wonders, for a split second, who’d had such an intense reaction in the midst of the chaos. When he realizes he’s the one who it belonged to and that he’s the reason Sora and Natsume have finally gone silent save the rugged breathing of the fisherman, he gasps and covers his mouth in utter embarrassment. 

“...I’m so sorry.” Tsumugi squeaks out at the floor, miles away from the person he briefly became during his outburst. Despite the loudness of the frustration in his previous volume and tone and his agitated state, Natsume slowly gets up and approaches him without any trace of fear or doubt to place a gentle hand upon Tsumugi’s. 

“Just tell me _one_ thing...” He starts, far more moderate than he’s been all day. “Why are you so opposed to trying to heal?”

A question Tsumugi’s been trying to answer by himself the entire time the fisherman has been around. He opens his mouth and hopes for the best, at first only getting out a small and insecure stutter. 

“I-I just…” he starts, and takes a deep breath. “I don’t think I should be allowed to heal. Not after all the hurt I’ve caused in the past, it doesn’t feel...natural, or earned.”

Nobody interrupts him, but the silence of his housemates feels a lot like a request for him to elaborate. He continues, his voice shaky. 

“It’s probably so presumptuous to think I could even be able to do it, but it just seems unfair... That I’d have any sort of ability to help those around me and that I’ve been using it to end lives instead. Not to mention just--stupid. I’m scared to find out. I’m sorry.”

What should probably end the conversation right there instead goes on, with Natsume’s surprising empathy and gentleness-- It’s never not strange how he of all people can easily understand these things. The Oracle touches Tsumugi’s cheeks, bringing his head up for them to properly lock eyes.

“It _is_ stupid.” He begins, “Because if anything, you being able to heal would be a good way to _atone_ for the bad you caused, don’t you think?”

Tsumugi blinks up with uncertainty.

“Atone…?”

“That’s right.” This time, Sora is the one chiming in, gently. “Sir, even if you’re unable to cast the spell, you can always put your knowledge to the best use you can… you owe it to yourself, and those gone by your blade.”

Hearing Sora not only acknowledge but outright reference Tsumugi’s victims is surprising enough to give him the push he needed to actually listen to his housemate’s suggestions. He glances, almost carefully, at the man in the bed, so deep in his pain he’s lost consciousness.

Tsumugi briefly touches Natsume’s hands before carefully taking them off his cheeks to approach the fisherman-- up close, and with focus, he can easily pinpoint his weaknesses, just as he’d done long ago before taking a victim down. This time, though, instead of using his observations to finish the man’s life even quicker, he will attempt the opposite. It’s surprisingly easy to tell what has to be done, as he’d been forced to also learn how to take care of his own wounds after particularly messy jobs. He turns to meet Sora and Natsume’s expecting looks.

“I need--” Tsumugi starts, his voice so steady he even surprises himself, “I need someone to hold up the book for me to see the spell. And someone to boil some of our rosemary herbs and oil to make ointment, please. There’s damage we can fix even without magic.” 

Sora grins wide before jolting out of the room, quick to appoint himself to herb-duty. Natsume’s smirk is almost unnoticeable, but he’s definitely also happy enough to help without protest, holding up the book for Tsumugi to see as he raises his trembling, scarred hands over the fisherman’s wounds.

He takes the deepest breath before he opens his mouth and begins reciting.

The warm glow that eventually comes out of his palms is almost startling enough for him to yank his hands away and stop on the spot, but he somehow wills himself to keep going until he actually sees, to his horror and amazement, flesh softening and bending to his will.

\--

“... _Hey_.”

Natsume’s soft call is almost unheard with the noisy ocean, but Tsumugi still turns from his spot near the water and gives a little smile and a wave. The Oracle steps and sits down at the sand right next to him, and both are quiet for a long moment that lingers in awkwardness, with the summer sun setting in front of them; it’s as warm, orange and comforting as ever. 

Tsumugi is the one to break the silence with a little chuckle.

“You don’t have to check on me, you know.” He says, his voice quiet but scratchy. “I’m alright.”

“Who said I was checking on you?” Natsume asks, looking sideways. “I just wanted to _confirm_ some things with you.”

“Like how I was right in thinking it’s not suited for me to heal?”

“No, like what a complete _ass_ that man was.” 

Tsumugi can’t help it-- he laughs pretty hard at this. Hearing such a crude word come from someone covered in so much jewelry and intricate ornaments is always surprising. Though Natsume doesn’t appreciate the laughing, he still gives Tsumugi a moment to laugh before rolling his eyes at him.

“What? I’m right.”

“Maybe--” Tsumugi says, his laughter finally dying down. He hums as he calms down to really consider Natsume’s words.

“ _Definitely_.” Natsume insists, frowning into the distance. “Not worth our time.”

Truth be told, he was probably right; after Tsumugi had spent the better part of an hour taking care of the wounds and scars that’d formed all over the fisherman’s body, one would’ve expected words of thanks after the recovery process. What he’d gotten from his patient upon waking up, instead, was bewilderment and incredulence after taking a good look at his savior and his scarred cheek. 

_“T-The assassin from the New Lands!”_ He’d said, retreating back into his covers. _“Stay away! Monster!”_

And his fear had only increased when Natsume walked into the room-- with a look that perfectly matched the now famous Witch of the Old Lands that many fishermen talked about for a year. Needless to say, Sora was the only person in the hut that managed to have a sane exchange with the man, and though he was as sweet as ever, it was plain to see he mostly talked to him out of politeness. Or hear, in Tsumugi’s case, as he’d taken it up to himself to quietly hide in the bedroom while Sora and Natsume took care of the guest before sending him on his way. 

It’s easy to think the man was rude and ungrateful, sure, but Tsumugi could still see where he came from. He can only sigh as he shakes his head.

"It’s alright. I can finally see why Leo-san did this.” Tsumugi says, passing a finger over his scar. “It’s the ideal punishment for me--no matter how much good I do, I can’t take back the bad. And everyone who can see this will know who I really am despite what I do today to compensate...it’s exactly what I deserve.”

Though it’s obvious Natsume wants to argue, it’s also obvious he knows Tsumugi is right. He turns to him with a frown, and after a moment, speaks up.

“You have a gift for healing, though. That’s not something you can just let _waste_ away.”

Tsumugi chuckles.

“I did a pretty good job of that for the entirety of my life so far, though.”

“Still,” Natsume urges, “I don’t want this to _stop_ you. There will be people out there who either won’t understand what the scar means, or look past it. People who will understand you’re attoning.”

“People like who, exactly?”

Natsume misses no beats.

“People like _Sora._ ”

And once again, Tsumugi laughs. 

“Sora-kun doesn’t count, he’s inhumanly kind and we both know it. Any other suggestions?”

“Well, there’s…”

A moment passes on with Tsumugi looking at the ocean, waiting for Natsume to finish his sentence. When nothing but the soft wind reaches his ears, Tsumugi turns to him, and Natsume is staring so pointedly it’s like he’s talking with his eyes.

And thankfully, it’s a language Tsumugi can understand very well by now; his answer is right in front of him.

“...Oh.” He says, cheeks reddening. “Of course.”

“ _Yeah._ ” Natsume mutters, also red-- and then he huffs, as if to chase away his embarrassment. He closes his eyes to rest his head on Tsumugi’s shoulder, and though the gesture is sudden and even a little aggressive in his movement, all Tsumugi can really pay attention to is his warmth, his nice smell and the pleasant jingle of his jewelry.

“So,” Natsume says, to avoid hearing any teasing for his sudden affection, “are you still storing away your talent?”

The reply doesn’t come easy to Tsumugi, but he balances and straightens himself by placing an arm around Natsume to keep him closer. That alone helps him feel so much steadier he can even smile with his answer.

“No,” He says, “I think I’ll just use it in emergencies. Whether the patient likes it or not. I'll try not to think too hard about it.”

Natsume’s smirk is unnoticed, but there.

“ _Good._ ”


End file.
